Spiritual Pyromaniac

“I want to thank you for everything you do. I passed the word of your wisdom to some of my friends, believing it would make a positive impact in their lives.

I’m concerned about an old friend…

She’s been through a lot in her life. She’s been in search of the true, of the perfect guru, for almost her whole adult life. Recently she seems to have found some answers, found her balance… she seems content, at peace with her past, with life. I don’t know if she’s struggling to maintain this balance or she’s really in control of this apparently euphoric state.

Recommending her your writings may make her feel like all her struggles have been in vain, her light, her balance will dissipate in an instant and she’ll have to take it all from the start. I fear she’ll be crushed.

Or at least this is my feeling. It would be great to get your input on this.”

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Do I recommend your friend read my writings?

Actually, I don’t recommend my writings to anyone. I have never ever told anyone that they should read what I’ve written. I’ve never asked anyone to spread the word of my page. Many people like you do so anyways, of course. Articles on this page are shared quite often. But that is entirely other’s prerogatives.

This is not because I doubt my writing or the value of it. I know the value of it. The reason I don’t openly share it or promote it…the reason most of my family members and friends don’t even know it exists…the reason why I have rejected advances from people to help me market it…is because what I write is incendiary.

It’s designed to set your world ablaze.

I am a serial arsonist. Every piece I write is like a Molotov Cocktail I hurl at the facade of the structure you call “my life”. Why would you recommend an arsonist to come and burn down your friend’s home when they have carefully built it up with twigs and pretty flowers? Maybe they are lost and afraid and simply need to shelter for a while. Even if that shelter is a flimsy facade, who am I to decide if they require it?

I have no desire to save anyone from themselves. No desire to peel people out of the embrace of their gurus. No desire to evacuate ashrams. I’m a Firestarter by nature. A spiritual pyromaniac who loves blowing up false beliefs and identities. But I’m not a sociopath. I believe in every individual’s right to pick their own prison. To shelter in their own suffering.

Most spiritual pages are like gourmet restaurants where patrons can go to gobble up delicious word salads, succulent foods-for-thought and heart-warming desserts. You will find the writers on these pages are like master chefs choosing only the most exclusive and rarefied ingredients to titillate their clients’ existential palates. Of course, the sort of food they serve is nothing like the food you eat at home. It’s delicious but rarely fills you up, rarely curbs your hunger. Still, there is a sense of exclusivity to dining at these fine places: the people that come there are of a familiar breed. It feels cultured. There is a sense of importance about being there.

The shit you get on THIS page will give you indigestion. It’ll send you evacuating from one orifice or another. The levels of sourness, spice and bitterness that you will get here require a steel rimmed stomach in order to process. Of course, there is plenty of sweet, salty and umami as well but nothing is ever in proportion. When it enters your mouth it’s rarely what you think it’s going to be. It’s like eating street food in a crowded Mumbai alley. Better make sure you have health insurance and quick access to bathroom facilities if you are going to hazard a meal.

Yet, the ingredients used here are raw and earthy. Straight out of the ground, dirt and all. And if you manage to process it – it reminds you of home.

If you want to recommend this page, go ahead. Do so at your own peril.

But here is something you may want to consider.

You can’t force the truth upon someone. Because truth is not perceived by a process of addition, it is revealed through a process of subtraction. In other words, you have to take something away from them. Often, it’s something deeply cherished and fundamental to their lives.

Revealing the truth by force is a criminal act. It’s like robbing someone’s bank account and leaving them penniless. Or burning down their home and leaving them on the streets. Or assaulting their person and leaving them bruised, beaten and defenseless.

Would you rob someone just because you believe that they are greedy? Would you burn down their home because you feel they are vain? Would you assault them because you feel they are too proud? Then why would you strip someone of their illusions by force just because you feel they are delusional?

I may be a truth teller but I am not a truth enforcer. I don’t believe in vigilante justice. I don’t believe in forcing people against their own will to let go of their falsehoods. Even lies serve a purpose. There is truth even in untruth.

Illusions are a security blanket that protect us from reality. Would you snatch a child’s “blankie” away from them if they require it for psychological comfort? Adults are children, too. And everyone has their own psychological “blankie” that helps them maintain some semblance of balance in their lives. Each blankie is woven of a different fabric. Someone’s is material, another’s is spiritual. Someone’s is atheistic, another’s is non-dual.

But for the ones who are beginning to peer out from under their own security blankets, this page may serve to encourage them to step into the “big, bad reality” outside. For the ones who are tired of floundering in their own illusions, these words may serve to ground them. For the ones seeking to set their own facades ablaze, the Molotov Cocktails of a Firestarter may provide just the right recipe for creating their own flaming projectiles.

Yet, I would never recommend reading my words. Because I know what happens when you play with fire.

On the contrary, a page like this ought to come with a disclaimer:

“DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME!”

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